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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393801">An Awful Lot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladyPond/pseuds/MaladyPond'>MaladyPond</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Forever (TV 2014), Highlander - All Media Types, Highlander: The Series, Pulp Fiction (1994)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Death, Reviving, muddling of timelines, waking from death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladyPond/pseuds/MaladyPond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent Vega has an awful lot to deal with.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <pre>Everything was darkness. Everything was pain. With that first strangled breath, he felt as though he were on fire.<br/>
"Well, I was wondering when you'd wake up," a voice echoed from somewhere near him; it sounded vaguely familiar. Somewhat European. "That's an awful lot of bullets for one man; who'd you piss off?"<br/>
He grunted. <em>'Oh, that was a mistake,'</em> he lamented. The fog was clearing from his mind. "Wh- <em>cough</em> Wh- Gr- Wh- Wha- h-"<br/>
"What happened? Is that what you want to ask?"<br/>
He moved his head slightly in something resembling a nod. It was then that he noticed he was lying flat on some cool, smooth surface. Hadn't he stumbled backwards into the tub?<br/>
"Try to relax. I know it's difficult, but keep breathing. Your memory will return soon enough. No, don't try to move; you're still healing," the Voice cautioned.<br/>
"H-healing? Th-the bullets . . . I was shot."<br/>
The other person huffed, or maybe he imagined it. "Yes, you were shot. You were dead . . . for several hours, I think. And, now, you are not dead."<br/>
<em>Dead . . . now . . . not dead.</em><br/>
"How?" he asked, curious yet incredulous.<br/>
The Other Person took a deep breath and sighed. "You are Immortal. So am I. That . . . strange sensation you feel - somewhere between a headache and feeling like there is a breeze going through you . . . that's how we recognise each other. Can you tell me your name?"<br/>
"V-Vince. Vega."<br/>
"Well, Mr Vega, you're going to need a new identity; we can take care of that later. Once night falls, we'll have to leave town."<br/>
"<em>We?</em>" How could this person think he'd go along with whatever - Was this a man or a woman? His head was swimming from . . . well, everything.<br/>
"I will help you . . . get set up somewhere new. You certainly can't stay here. Or anywhere near here. Or, for that matter, anywhere people know you."<br/>
"Why?" He had an inkling why, but he needed to hear it.<br/>
"You're <em>dead</em>, Mr Vega. You don't really think a dead man can continue walking these streets, do you?"<br/>
"Who knows I'm dead?" Breathing was getting easier.<br/>
"The medical examiner, for one. He's an old friend of mine; he'll bury you under an alias."<br/>
"<em>Bury?!</em>"<br/>
"Yes. No, not <em>you</em>, not physically. Not your body, just your name. An obituary will run. He's waiting to fill out the death certificate."<br/>
"Why do I have to . . ."<br/>
"You were all over the news when the police collected your body. People saw your face. He'll put a different name on the forms if you like. Do you have any family who might come to pay their last respects?"<br/>
He shook his head. "Nah, my parents died years ago; even before that, we hadn't spoken in . . . and my brother died a few years back." A thought struck him. "W- Is my brother . . . like me?"<br/>
The Other Person hesitated before answering. "I don't know. I might be able to find out, but it would take some time."<br/>
"Oh." He tried opening his eyes; the light didn't burn them as much as before. "I'm in the morgue?" he whispered.<br/>
"In an unused part of it, yes. No one ever comes down here but for this sort of thing."<br/>
"This happen often?"<br/>
The Other Person chuckled briefly. "Often enough. Not so often that the rest of the staff notice; the ones who have figure we're just down here for a few minutes alone. You hungry? We got burgers from Big Kahuna, but I could get you something else, if you like."<br/>
"Maybe in a bit. I'm still . . . processing all of this." He pushed himself up gingerly into a sitting position and finally got a look at his . . . guide. It was a rather pretty woman with reddish-brown hair; she looked to be in her twenties or thirties, with eyes that had clearly seen far more years than that.<br/>
"Of course. There are some clothes for you here; Lucas had to get a size larger than what you were wearing. The bathroom's through there if you'd like to freshen up." She pointed to a door off to his right, then jerked her thumb behind her. "I'll be down that corridor if you need anything else. Come and join us when you're ready."<br/>
Before she could head through the wooden door, he called out, "Wait! Uh . . . Thank you. For all of this. And, um, what is your name?"<br/>
"Laura. Take your time, Vincent. You're safe here."</pre>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <pre><em>'I'm safe here. Yeah. Sure. I'm just supposed to trust her. But why would she wait for me to . . . wake up? She could've just as easily left me in - That would not have been a pleasant experience. Then again, neither was being shot to death like that.'</em><br/>
Vince rinsed the last of the suds from his hair.
<br/><em>'What if all she wants is to toy with me? Make me all comfortable and trusting and - And what? What would she get from screwing with me? Damn, I've been in the business too long, thinking everyone's out to get me. Maybe I could take some time, stay out of sight, figure stuff out . . . I can't keep in touch with my old life; she said as much. No, no, I'll find some nice quiet spot, lay low until I know what I want to do next. I wonder if I can get to my stash?'</em>
<br/>Vince reached for the towel hanging by the shower. Out of the places he imagined he could have revived, this had to be one of the nicest. Granted, it didn't have all the amenities that a suite at the Plaza might have, but it was comfortable and clean and there was food waiting for him in the other room.
<br/>Big Kahuna. Jules had just recommended their burgers to him. When was that? That morning? The day before?
<br/>He ran a comb through his hair and examined his face in the mirror. For a guy who'd been dead an hour earlier, he looked pretty good.
<br/>Laura had been right; the clothes she'd left for him were a little big. Nothing a decent belt couldn't fix. <em>'Ah, good. There's one here, and a nice one, at that. Jacket feels nice, though. I'll have to ask where they got this suit.'</em>
<br/>At last feeling himself presentable, he made his way down the corridor. That buzzing in his head was growing louder.
<br/>"No, I think a nice deep colour for the living room," Laura's voice drifted to him.
<br/>"Maybe navy blue?" a male voice responded. "With some pale trim. A nice cream?"
<br/>"Hey, an ice cream'd be nice right about now," Vince interjected with a smile.
<br/>Laura straightened from her perch on the edge of the desk. "Lucky for you, we keep a few pints down here. Vince Vega, this is Lucas Wahl."
<br/>"Hey, man, thanks for picking up this suit for me. I owe you one."
<br/>Lucas held up a hand. "Think nothing of it. How are you, uh, you know . . ."
<br/>"Dealing with all this? I gotta tell ya, it's a lot to digest. But I'm glad I got to wake up here and not, I don't know, in some funeral parlour or the graveyard or something." He was rambling, he knew, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "Maybe I should eat something substantial before I have dessert, hm?"
<br/>Lucas pushed his chair away from the desk and headed to a side table where a large, insulated, soft sided lunch box sat. "Yeah. We've got some burgers, but, if you want something else, I could head up to the cafeteria -"
<br/>"Burger sounds great. I've just got to get something in me." He reached for a wrapped sandwich labelled <em>"chicken"</em> and tore into it. "Oh, man, that is good!"
<br/>"We've got soda and juice, if you're thirsty," Laura offered as she opened the refrigerator.
<br/>"Ginger ale?"
<br/>She handed him the can. "Eat. Take your time. We won't do anything else until you're ready."
<br/>They ate in silence for several minutes.
<br/>"There's one thing I've got to know," Vince finally said. "Why're you being so nice to me?"
<br/>Laura nodded slowly. She had been expecting him to ask that. "As I was taught, I will teach you. There are rules we live by; they're not just a formality or merely a matter of politeness. Our rules are as much about survival as they are, seemingly, about fairness."
<br/>"Oh." He pried the lid off a pint of ice cream. "I don't want to sound rude, but . . . How old are you, anyway?"
<br/>Lucas snickered.
<br/>"I'm . . . a lot older than I appear," she admitted vaguely.
<br/>"Yeah, but how much? What? 50? 100 years old? How long do, uh, our kind live?"
<br/>"Oh. That's what you're curious about. Life expectancy. Well, let's see . . . I know quite a few who are between nearly a hundred and five hundred years old . . . some a little older than that . . . several who, like you, are new to the Game . . . and there are some who are beyond a thousand years old."
<br/>"A thousand," he said in a ghost of a whisper.
<br/>"If you train hard and keep your head, who knows how long you might live? You could even -"
<br/>"You said game. What game?"
<br/>She exchanged a glance with Lucas. "We . . . We call it the Game, but it's a deadly business. You will need to learn to use a sword. It's nigh impossible to stay out of the Game; eventually, some unscrupulous Immortal will come along and . . ." She shut her eyes at the thought.
<br/>"Learn to use a sword. What? Am I gonna be chopping off limbs or - Oh. Do - Will my arm regrow if it gets hacked off?"
<br/>She tilted her head. "If you can reattach it quickly enough, it might heal. If your head - If you lose your head, that's it."
<br/>"That - Game over?"
<br/>She nodded grimly.
<br/>"Hence the sword," he surmised.
<br/>"Right. I've called up someone about a sword you can practice with. It's only a loan until we know what kind of blade will be most suitable for you. Have you ever used a sword before?"
<br/>"Uh, no. No, not really. Just, you know, goofing around with my brother with toy swords when we were kids."
<br/>"How about fighting?" Lucas asked. "Any martial arts training?"
<br/>"Yeah, a little bit. Just enough to be able to hold my own if I get jumped in a dark alley."
<br/>"We should start with that, then," Laura decided. "Get your strength up before you wield a blade." She glanced up at the clock. "Another hour or so and we can head out."</pre>
<hr/>
<pre>Two hours later, they were on their way. Vince's head was still swimming with the Rules Laura had told him. Only fight one on one. No interfering once a challenge has been accepted. No fighting on Holy Ground - <em>any</em> Holy Ground; this included graveyards. No beheading one who fell dead by other than your hand.
<br/>Whether that last one was a Rule all followed or simply her own, he wasn't sure, but he would follow it. He did have some honour, after all.
<br/>She turned the car onto a dimly lit country road. Part of her wondered if this was worth the trouble she was going to. Vincent Vega. She had heard of him, but she hadn't told Lucas that. No, it would not do for Lucas to be aware of Vince's past when what the new Immortal needed was a clean slate.</pre>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"This is a nice cabin," Vince noted. "You two live here or . . ."</p>
<p>"We sort of share it with some old friends of mine," Laura informed him. "For now, yes, we stay here. We're renovating a place a little bit north of here. Listen, Vince, this friend of mine who's coming . . . you might decide you'd prefer he train you; I won't be offended if you do."</p>
<p>"Couldn't both of you train me? I mean, it'd be better if I learn more than one fighting style, right?"</p>
<p>She arched an eyebrow. "This is true. I'm just saying . . . One's First Teacher can have a big impact. I've given you the basics, but you might find someone else is a better, you know, fit."</p>
<p>He nodded. Was she trying to get rid of him already?</p>
<p>Lucas emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of Scotch and three glasses. "Well, here's to . . . to the future and . . . possibilities."</p>
<p>They clinked glasses then settled in for a casual chat.</p>
<p>"How long have you two been together?"</p>
<p>"Oh, going on two years now," Lucas replied with a smile.</p>
<p>"And how did you find out . . . about . . . all of this? If it's not too personal."</p>
<p>Laura chuckled. "It's how we met, actually. I wound up in the morgue after flinging myself down some stairs to escape a would-be suitor - yes, another Immortal - and Lucas happened to be by my side when I awoke."</p>
<p>"Now, there's a good start to a love story," Vince remarked with a raise of his drink.</p>
<p>"Yeah, she just looked so . . . My boss noticed her broken bones were healing as she lay there, so we set her off to the side to see what else might happen or if anyone came down to identify her."</p>
<p>"You were curious," Vince murmured.</p>
<p>"Extremely. Henry, even more so. I mean, he -" Lucas silenced himself when he noticed the look Laura was giving him.</p>
<p>"Oh, hey, don't worry on my account. Who am I going to tell, anyway? But I understand if there's stuff you'd feel better not talking about."</p>
<p>She nodded. "It's more like it's not really our place to discuss. If and when you do meet him, he can decide whether or not to tell you his own story. Besides, you have enough to deal with as it is, don't you?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. You're absolutely right. I'm still trying to process this idea that I can't die unless someone chops my head off. And that I'll have to carry a sword. <em>Whew</em>. Was it hard for you to adjust?"</p>
<p>"Oh . . . In my day - when I was new to this, that is - carrying a blade was the norm. I already knew how to wield one. The hardest part for me to accept was that I would never look any older, since I wasn't quite seventeen when it happened."</p>
<p>"Damn. You were so young. How'd it happen?"</p>
<p>"Runaway chariot. There I was, walking to the temple, when a horse got spooked by who knows what, and I got trampled. Fortunately, I was found by the man who would become my First Teacher before my family could cremate me."</p>
<p>"Wow. Trampled by a spooked horse. That's got to be better than mine: gunned down by the guy I was supposed to ambush."</p>
<p>"Ambush?!" Lucas and Laura exclaimed.</p>
<p>Vince stared down at his feet. "Yeah. I . . . See, I was a hitman for - for this . . . Maybe I shouldn't tell you who he is. But he'd have me take care of anyone who crossed him or cheated him. Well, me and my partner, who told me he was quitting the life so he could - how'd he put it? - walk the Earth until G-d put him where he needed to be . . . Anyway, this boxer was supposed to take a dive, but he didn't, so we were all supposed to be on the lookout to take him out. I went to his apartment to see if he'd show up there, and, when I came out of the bathroom, there he was, with my boss's piece aimed right at me! I think he must've emptied the entire magazine into my chest."</p>
<p>"That would be consistent with how you looked when you were brought in," Lucas concurred.</p>
<p>"That reminds me, what about my ruined suit?"</p>
<p>"It's with your other things; I put them in the kitchen. If you want to dispose of it, we can light the fireplace."</p>
<p>"Yes, thank you. I definitely do <em>not</em> want a memento of that event."</p>
<p>"Speaking of mementos," Laura piped up. "Is there anything you need from your old place?"</p>
<p>"Oh! Yeah . . . Yeah . . . Could we maybe go and clear out my apartment? There's stuff there I'd . . . I'd prefer the cops not find. My keys were in my pocket when they brought me in, weren't they?"</p>
<p>Lucas nodded. "You think I'll have any trouble with the building manager if I go over there in the morning?"</p>
<p>"Nah. But, you know what, maybe I should call him now, tell him I'm moving or something so he doesn't . . . not that I think he'll panic and call anyone, but . . . if he thinks someone's stealing from his building . . ."</p>
<p>"Good point. Phone's in the kitchen," Laura offered. "I just hope he hasn't seen the news."</p>
<p>Vince chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll convince him it was someone else if he asks about my grisly demise." He sauntered into the kitchen and punched in the number. "H-Hey, Mr Sandrino? . . . No, I'm good, and you? . . . Great . . . Yeah, listen, I've got to go out of town for a while . . . Yeah, I did just get back from Amsterdam . . . Haha . . . No, just some stuff I have to take care of for a friend of mine, so I'm gonna have someone go pick up some of my stuff . . . Yeah, I know. I just didn't want you to worry about how much he's taking out . . . Well, I'm not sure when I'll be back . . . No, hey, it's okay. If you want, I can have 'em take all my stuff out of there and . . . Yeah? . . . Okay, great! . . . Yes, I will . . . His name's Lucas . . . I'm not sure what time exactly, but I'll tell him to call you when he's on his way . . . Okay. And thanks for everything, Mr Sandrino."</p>
<p>He placed the receiver back in its cradle and began going through the box Lucas had left on the table. He'd never be able to go back to his old life, not that there were many people to miss him. Mr Sandrino's daughter, Colleen, might miss cooking for him - and, damn, did he hope she'd find someone who'd appreciate her - and Lance might miss his money, but he had plenty of customers . . . Jules? Jules had already decided to leave his own life behind and start over. What if he was - ?</p>
<p>No. He had to stop himself from thinking that everyone he'd ever met was another Immortal. How would he recognise one, anyway? That headache Laura explained to him was a concept he couldn't quite wrap his head around. Did he simply wait for them to approach him? Did he walk up and introduce himself as soon as he saw them? How were challenges issued?</p>
<p>He ran his hands up and down his face. This rambling in his mind needed to stop. Was the absurdity of his new reality settling in?</p>
<p>'<em>Maybe I should get some sleep. Things should be clearer in the morning.'</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>previously posted to FFN in 2017</p></blockquote></div></div>
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